


Her Own Song

by Jenn_Calaelen



Category: A Song For Arbonne - Guy Gavriel Kay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenn_Calaelen/pseuds/Jenn_Calaelen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elisse in a reflective mood around Carnival</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Own Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greenlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenlily/gifts).



> Many thank yous to ambyr for the beta - any remaining mistakes are my fault.

Elisse of Cauvas put her disappointment out of mind as she left En Bertran de Talair's room in The Liensenne. Dawn had broken, and he had politely, oh so politely, bade her farewell. She had dressed again, in her clothes from the night before, and picked up her lute. Once outside the room she could hear voices from below suggesting others, probably students from the university, were still celebrating, but she did not feel like joining them — though no doubt they would have welcomed her singing. Instead she climbed the stairs back to the room she was sharing with Jourdain. She had demanded they have a private room this year, even if the door was, as was traditional, unlocked — at least Lisseut was not going to walk in on her again. Elisse scowled at the memory; it was unfair that she was judged for it more than the others. 

Unsurprisingly, the room was empty. She laid her lute down carefully on the bed, noticing the covers there were smooth — clearly Jourdain had also slept elsewhere or not at all. 

There was soap, towels, and a bowl of water set out for her. She washed carefully, smiling at the memory of Lisseut being dipped in the water, or rather wine, the previous day. She had looked ridiculous in her anger at them all, but the bruise she had given Elisse still hurt. She rubbed at it crossly. 

She carefully looked through her clothes; she needed to look successful if she was to go to the guild hall to sign another contract with Jourdain. She dressed slowly, lost in her thoughts. He had been talking about touring abroad. That would be a chance for adventure — she had never left Arbonne, and perhaps now was the time to make her reputation in another land. Where would he choose? She knew him better than to expect to be consulted before he decided. Elisse had seen him and Remy talking to some of the lords from both Portezza and Arimanda. Each would be its own adventure — the great cities of Portezza, each with their own scheming and romantic lords and ladies glittering like jewels; or Arimanda, wilder, looking away from the civilisation of Arbonne but still closer than the northern countries. Elisse shivered slightly at the memory of the northern coran describing the penalties for women there — she would not travel that far beyond the reach of civilisation. The other southern countries, even when they did not worship Rian, were much closer to their traditions of courtly grace. She could win renown abroad, far away from Lisseut. 

Thinking of the other woman reminded Elisse of the previous evening's missed opportunity: to sing for Lady Ariane of Carenzu, Queen of the Count of Love, and other nobles of Arbonne. It could have made her name. She was a better performer by far than Lisseut, and Jourdain's songs were better — if only he would write one intended for a woman to sing, intended for her.

The door opened wide as Jourdain entered the room, followed by Aurelian, both laughing lightly at some joke. Elisse swung around to face them. Jourdain leaned across to kiss her lightly before he asked, 

"I have been talking to some of the Arimondian nobles who are here for the Carnival. They are willing to pay for me and my joglar to bring my music to their cities and castles. Would you like to continue touring with me?"

Elisse looked at him for a moment. He was smiling at her — still confident, despite his dunking in the river. She nodded. 

"Very well. The same terms?" she asked, knowing better than to ask for more. None of the other first-rank troubadours she knew were looking for a new joglar, and she was not about to work for someone of second rank. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow. I have arranged passage on one of their ships, and they are returning at once."

"You were so certain I would agree?" she snapped at him.

"I though you would, but there are always many joglars looking for work around Carnival."

Elisse turned away, angry — that hurt, even as it was very true. She tried to think of a response. She could claim that the lords would expect his songs to be sung by her, but she knew that it was his reputation that was known abroad, not hers — not yet. Maybe this tour could change that.

"What of you, Aurelian? Intending to act as joglar for Remy again? Is he recovering well from his wound?"

"Yes. He was talking of us touring the Portezzan cities before returning for autumn fair in Lussan. Will you be coming this year?"

Elisse sniffed. "I will see. It may be that I will, or perhaps I will have earned enough to avoid singing to taverns full of drunken louts."

Aurelian laughed. Elisse sighed slightly; it seemed that she could never hurt him, even when she actually wished she could. He was always calm, even in bed — boring, really. She did not understand how anyone could be so unambitious despite his obvious talents; why ever had he left home? Was she the only one who ever thought about the future – did they not see that only success guaranteed any sort of safety in their old age? She had seen too many joglars begging or singing for scraps in taverns, even here in Arbonne. She would not – she was already saving for when her voice started to fail. It would not be enough for some years to come, but she had time.

"This will be your first tour abroad, Elisse?" Jourdain’s words broke into her reflections. 

"You know that."

"It will be an experience for you, but remember joglars are not held in such high regard elsewhere," Aurelian said, serious again. "Be careful. Jourdain will protect you, but remember it is not as safe for you as here."

"I can look after myself. I have for years. I've been on the road as long as either of you, since Selias noticed my singing when he visited Cauvas."

Even to them, she would not tell the whole truth, how she had sought him out and sung for him, determined to prove herself. She had not said anything to him of her reasons and he had not asked. Her mother had wept, but not tried to persuade her to stay – Elisse had already driven away two suitors with her sharp tongue, and with her sister and brothers already married and working in the family glass-making business, she was not needed there. They were happy for her to visit, to sing to them and bring a taste of romance to their dull lives. She usually returned there in autumn, in a break between tours – and it always reminded her of why she had left, looking at her sisters growing old with pregnancy and the cares of motherhood. 

It had been right to put herself forward to Selias. He had been a moderately successful joglar, travelling on his own and singing songs of many troubadours — not as good as she had become. Though he had seen the advantages of having an apprentice, he had made her work hard for every piece of training. However, it had brought her here to Carnival in Tavernel five years ago, and hence to the notice of Remy, just beginning to make his name. He had complemented her singing and charmed her, leading to their first tour together — both young and new to the life, just making a start and managing to earn enough to eat. She smiled at the flood of memories of her successes.

"Elisse? Didn't get much sleep last night?" Jourdain's words interrupted her thoughts. 

She smirked. "Indeed not." She turned away. “Come on. Let us get this contract signed. Then drink to adventures.”

  
They smiled and followed her out of the room, out of the tavern into the sunshine of the waking city.


End file.
